


In Parts

by doorwaytoparadise



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is into Crowley no matter what, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley and his sharp teeth, Established Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon, Snake-like Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:54:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doorwaytoparadise/pseuds/doorwaytoparadise
Summary: Crowley's lip curls and he says something witty, Aziraphale is sure, but he's too caught up in watching the way Crowley's canines lengthen into fangs, the way his whole mouth very suddenly goes sharp. Crowley bares his teeth at the human and snarls, and they both watch the man bolt in terror. Aziraphale tilts his head, studies the curve of the two longest teeth, and thinks,huh.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 31
Kudos: 236





	In Parts

**Author's Note:**

> so this was actually my first attempt at the guess the author game in the GO Events discord for the prompt 'this better not awaken anything in me', but it got out of hand. thanks to my beta reader elizabethelizabeth~

Crowley and Aziraphale walk hand-in-hand through St. James Park, something new and thrilling and warm. Armageddon never came, humanity is safe, and they're on their own side; the world continues to turn. Although humanity does have a tendency to produce unpleasantness all on its own. A nasty look from a stranger, a sneered comment, malice and bigotry in the curl of the words. They stop walking. Aziraphale has walked streets like this before, threaded himself through history with a very specific crowd, and he knows how to deal with this vitriol, knows how to let it roll off his shoulders or snap it back, but as he considers his response, Crowley shifts beside him. Crowley knows this attitude too, but he's always been quicker to retaliate than Aziraphale.

Crowley tenses, coils his muscles like a snake about to strike, and Aziraphale waits. Maybe before, he would have stopped Crowley, pulled him back, and walked them both away, because that's what he's supposed to do as an angel, turn the other cheek and all that. But there were plenty of things he was supposed to have done that all turned out wrong in the end, so he sees what's coming and holds back a smirk.

Crowley's lip curls and he says something witty, Aziraphale is sure, but he's too caught up in watching the way Crowley's canines lengthen into fangs, the way his whole mouth very suddenly goes sharp. Crowley bares his teeth at the human and snarls, and they both watch the man bolt in terror. Aziraphale tilts his head, studies the curve of the two longest teeth, and thinks, _huh_.

Aziraphale has seen aspects of Crowley's serpent side, from the full snake form when they met, to subtler attributes, though the glimpses have been rare. Aziraphale should be put off, at the very least, with the stark reminder of Crowley’s nature, not just a demon but the Serpent of Eden. He should be put off, but the thing is, especially now, with no more roles and no more jobs and being together officially, he really really isn’t. Instead, he’s curious. 

Aziraphale thinks about slitted pupils, scales under his hand, a forked tongue. He thinks about the blade-sharp point of fangs, how they might feel, pressing hard but not enough to break skin, scraping over muscles and tendons. Aziraphale stares at that wicked mouth and feels a different kind of hunger. Crowley is relaxing beside him, cackling at his little show, and when he glances over Aziraphale doesn't even try to hide the desire in his eyes.

Crowley gets one look at Aziraphale's face, can clearly see what the angel is thinking, and swallows hard. 

'Uh, Aziraphale?' 

And it's a bewildered sort of question because there's still a wildness about him, features that mark him as _'deadly: do not touch'_ he has yet to dismiss, but Aziraphale is now looking as much a predator as him.

'We're going this way, dear.' Aziraphale says in a way that books no room for argument and pulls Crowley to the nearest mostly-secluded spot he can find. A quick miracle ensures no one will look their way, and he crowds Crowley against a tree. He gives Crowley a very meaningful look, leaning close enough to ensure his intentions cannot possibly be misconstrued. 

‘Guess you enjoyed the show, angel?' Crowley tries to ask casually, but it comes out a little confused. His glasses have slid down his nose, enough to expose the top half of those jewel-bright yellow eyes. Despite his confusion, Crowley is hardly slow on the uptake, and with their proximity, Aziraphale can tell they’re both getting hard.

Like this, pinned by Aziraphale’s weight and eyes wide but welcoming, Crowley is as tempting as any apple, and Aziraphale leans forward to take a bite. Crowley makes a startled noise, presses one hand to Aziraphale's chest to halt him, and Aziraphale stops immediately. If Crowley isn't up for this right now, Aziraphale won't push, so he quirks an eyebrow in question. Crowley flushes. 

'At least let me, ah uh,' and gestures vaguely at his face, where his teeth are still poking out of his lips. 

'Let me uh, get rid of this, you probably don't want-' 

Aziraphale cuts him off. 

'Show me your teeth, Crowley.'

'W-what?' 

'Show me your teeth.' 

Completely bewildered, Crowley makes a sort of grimace that exposes most of the sharp points, his brows furrowing and looking lost. Aziraphale reaches to cup Crowley's face, grabs his jaw, and tilts his head to get a proper look. His back teeth are all still blunt, but the front ones have jutted up at various heights, just barely fitting in his mouth. Aziraphale licks his lips.

Crowley squirms a little against him, and Aziraphale's eyes dart to meet his, making sure this is okay, and Crowley is staring at him like he's expecting disgust, like he thinks Aziraphale will turn away at the blatant physical evidence of his demonic nature, and that just won't do. Aziraphale leans in deliberately, hands still on Crowley's jaw, and kisses him. Crowley, like he always does, melts into it; whatever apprehension he has takes a backseat for the moment. Aziraphale darts his tongue out, seeking entrance, and there's a hesitation where there normally would be none.

But Aziraphale is both patient and stubborn, born from his nature as a guardian. He waits, doesn't pull back from the kiss or from Crowley, doesn't move or ask again. Crowley exhales heavily against him, and finally parts his lips. Aziraphale licks his way inside, eager to sate his curiosity, because kissing Crowley is one of his favorite things, and now there's something new about it to explore.

Aziraphale’s tongue swipes across the elongated canines first, sliding down the length to the sharp point and poking it experimentally. It feels as sharp as it had looked, and Aziraphale is captivated. He angles his head to better slot their mouths together, so he can get more of a taste of Crowley and map out his explorations. Aziraphale traces his tongue over the bottom teeth, and Crowley is fully pressed back against the tree at this point, arms looped around Aziraphale's neck. One of them is moaning, and Crowley's hips jerk against Aziraphale, arousal heavy between them both.

Aziraphale parts Crowley's legs with his knee, and Crowley grinds against him, seeking friction, and making a guttural noise when he finds it. Just as Aziraphale thinks he may have to miracle them home, there's a sharp point of pain, a jolting sensation that makes him jump like an electric shock. Crowley wrenches away from him immediately, eyes wide in a panic because he's just bitten Aziraphale's lip hard enough to draw blood.

'Oh Go- Sata- Someone, Aziraphale are you ok?' 

Crowley's hands are fluttering around Aziraphale's face almost hesitant to touch, and Aziraphale grimaces as he feels a thin trail of blood track down his chin. 

'I'm fine, dear, it's nothing.' 

'’ _Nothing?’_ Angel, you're bleeding!'

Aziraphale swipes his tongue over the wound, a small puncture that barely even stings now the initial shock has worn off. He can taste the copper of the blood, but his tongue still feels the ghost of Crowley's teeth, and he reaches out to catch Crowley's flailing hands. 

'It's alright. Look, it's already stopped bleeding.' 

And his lip had indeed stopped, not even needing a miracle. Aziraphale gently guides Crowley's hands to his face, lets Crowley check for himself, then presses a kiss to the palm. Crowley still looks stricken.

'Aziraphale, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-, in the first place' 

Here he pulls his lips back a little, flashes his teeth and Aziraphale knows he means manifesting the features at all. Crowley is self-conscious in a way that he rarely is, and it hurts Aziraphale to see. Not now, not when they finally have freedom and each other, does Aziraphale want Crowley to ever feel ashamed of his nature.

'Crowley,' he murmurs, making sure Crowley looks at him before continuing. 

'I assure you, the teeth and the everything were why I pulled you over here.' 

Crowley looks dumbstruck. 

'I, uh, ah.' His jaw moves but no more words come out. 'Ngk.' 

Aziraphale only smiles sweetly, dips back in to press kisses to Crowley's cheekbone, his nose, his chin. Crowley leans into the contact, the affection, drops his gaze to the ground, before darting his eyes back to Aziraphale. He gives him a scrutinizing look, unguarded and still unsure. 

'It really doesn't bother you?' 

Aziraphale meets his gaze firmly. 

'My dear, it _is_ you. I don't love you in parts.'

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [In Parts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24533266) by [elizabethelizabeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabethelizabeth/pseuds/elizabethelizabeth)




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